My Mind’s Eye…

By now most people know that photography is my unofficial passion.  I say “unofficial” because if I take it more seriously, it becomes more of an obsession, and then it is no longer enjoyable to me.  I much prefer to carry my small pocket Canon, as opposed to having a heavier camera hanging around my neck.  If I purposely set out to take pictures with my 35mm, I then tend to miss the simple joy of catching the perfect shot as it comes along.  Rarely do I take a picture that shows an entire scene.  Instead, my eye leans towards just part of what most people see.  I appreciate forms and angles, and shadows are welcome.                                  Occasionally, I will notice people looking at me oddly, and following my camera’s line of sight, and it is obvious they are wondering what I could possibly be seeing that is worth photographing.  I am used to it, and can usually tune them out, leaving them to stare to their heart’s content.  This morning, however, I was presented with a situation that I had never experienced before.  I was walking down the street, very much in my own world as usual, snapping odd photos as I always do.  I noticed a young boy, about 9 years of age, give or take, and he was hanging back about 20 feet or so.  I would take a picture or two, zooming in or out on various scenes, and then move on.  As I moved away, he would move in to where I had been standing, and would study intently at what I had been photographing.  He would then take out his smartphone, and take the same picture or two that I had just taken.  Whether or not he was taking the exact shot that I had, I do not know, but I do know that he was trying to see what I had seen.  This easily went on for at least 15 minutes or so.  When I finally reached my destination, I turned and gave a nod to my young companion,wishing him well and silently thanking him for his company.  He went his way, and I went mine.  Later, as I was downloading and reviewing my photos, I thought of the boy, and realized that  perhaps he had learned to look at things in a different light, to look a little closer.  Maybe I had just witnessed the birth of this generations Ansel Adams, and I had played a part in it.  Of course, I will never know, but we all like to think that we’ve made a difference somehow, that we’ve left our mark on the world.  Maybe…just maybe, today was the day that I did…